


Here to There

by LRT



Series: Heart Attack [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Friends to Enemies, Game Spoilers, Grief/Mourning, Heaven, Inspired by Music, Minor Violence, Revenge, Suicidal Thoughts, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:12:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LRT/pseuds/LRT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected death brings two people back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Down" by Metric.

The amount of people that turned out for the memorial was staggering. Part of her was happy that people wanted to remember him; part of her was angry that most of them never gave a shit about him in life but cried over his death.

She stayed as far away from everything as possible, having had enough of those "poor widow" looks from the mourners. Their pity and sympathy meant nothing to her. What good did any of it do? Would it bring him back? Would it change the past? Of course not.

What truly made her quietly seethe in the corner was Butch and Cassidy. You would have thought their best friend had just died, the way Cassidy was carrying on and the pitiful puppy dog eyes Butch was batting around the room. Fuck them.

Fuck the boss, too. Team Rocket had paid for everything and it was as nice as a funeral was expected to be. Charity didn't change anything, either. For years all the boss ever did was berate them and when they finally had a chance to prove themselves, it turned out that he never expected them to succeed in the first place. Every insult he'd ever uttered to them rewound again and again in her head while he gave his condolences - if it weren't for him, he would still be alive right now.

That was what she told herself, at least. It was the boss's fault for sending them to Kalos in the first place. It wasn't her fault for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, making him have to save her. That was garbage. She didn't need saving. She never needed saving. How could he have died saving her when she was no damsel in distress in the first place?

There wasn't nearly enough booze in her system to consider going back out to that joke. She had just heard the sad but still unbearably cutesy sound of Pikachu and would rather have been crushed by the boulders in Geosenge Town than talk to the twerps. It was nice they came, sure. Meowth could deal with it.

She had put a lot on Meowth's shoulders both purposely and unknowingly. Her disgust and denial over the whole thing made her completely useless - not that she particularly cared - and so for the first time, Meowth was stuck being the strong one. She was done with that. What good was strength when it didn't even matter when it counted most?

All she did now was fume over everything, more than she ever did before. Feeling angry and being a bitch was a much better choice than sitting around crying and wishing that things had been different, in her opinion. After all, doing those things meant that she was mourning him; mourning him meant that he was really gone; he wasn't really gone. It was impossible. This was all a sick joke probably put on by Butch and Cassidy. James was going to show up any second and sweep her up in his arms, spin her around and kiss her just like before.

The only problem with that thought process was the deep emptiness she felt inside. If he really were just off playing a prank, she would know. She would feel it. That's how they were - always connected no matter how far away they ended up from each other. Instead, she felt nothing. Where once was warmth and joy now gave way to cold and bitter sorrow.

She was officially over all of this. Downing the rest of her drink and tossing the glass into a nearby planter, she went out the backdoor of the funeral parlor. The whole place smelled of death and it was making her sick. The drinks she'd gulped down in the course of an hour were also probably to blame.

Down the steps - but which way now? She stood in the middle of the parking lot, knowing that she needed to get the hell out but realizing she had no place to go. The bars weren't open yet. She hadn't been back to their room at all, leaving it all to Meowth and Mondo. All the people she knew from Team Rocket were inside. It was her worst fear coming true - he left her and she was all alone.

Jessie spent the rest of the time sitting on the steps outside. It scared her but being alone was better than being in there right now. She would have to get used to the feeling, anyway.

 

* * *

 

"I want an assignment," she said firmly, daring to stand up to the boss for the first time.

Giovanni frowned and sat back in his plush desk chair, one hand falling to the side to scratch his beloved Persian behind the ears. "That's not a good idea. I won't do it."

Gritting her teeth, she asked again, " _Give me_ something to do."

That look again - that fucking woe-is-her look that seemed to be the only response she could get from people anymore. "What's just happened to you -"

"- Is all the more reason for me to get out of here and distract myself."

He shook his head. "Even if I wanted to, the only available ones aren't for you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said," he replied sternly. "You're on bereavement leave and you're staying there until I feel that you're ready to continue as an agent, do I make myself clear?"

Jessie glared at him, not moving a muscle, her whole body tensing up at the mention of "bereavement" - what did that even mean, anyway? Mourning? She still refused to do that. "Crystal. Too bad I couldn't give a shit."

Giovanni sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and middle finger. "You can't speak to me like that. You know this."

She crossed her arms and settled in to her chair. "Don't care."

"Fine," he said, reaching across his desk to grab several file folders. "If it'll make you happy and _get rid of you_ then I'll give you an assignment."

" _Finally_."

As he flipped through the folders, he glanced up at her when he told her, "All of these assignments are in Kalos. Is that going to be a problem?"

Her teeth were going to be nothing but nubs soon if she didn't stop grinding. "Why would it be?"

Giovanni sighed once again and handed a file over the desk to her. "Recon work. We're keeping an eye on things over there since -" He stopped abruptly, searching for any kind of words that wouldn't upset her and finding that there really were none. "What happened," he said as he looked down at his content Persian, lightly purring in its sleep. "What became of Lysandre is still not known. We can hope that his own foolish ideas became the end of him but I don't think that's so." He sat back in his chair again, exhaling a deep breath slowly. "Men like him don't tend to give up. They must be _stopped_."

She was only half-listening to another one of his _glorious_ speeches, idly flipping through the papers she was given. When the sound of silence overtook the room, she looked up and nodded to him as though she had heard every word. "Consider it done."

"Where would you like me to have Meowth and Mondo -"

"I'm going solo," she replied, standing up. "They're the ones that need the time off. Not me."

Shaking his head, he stood as well and leaned across his desk. "I urge you not to do anything stupid." Persian made a small "meow" as it stretched and joined them. "If you find Lysandre, you contact _me_. You don't go in there alone to try and get revenge. _Do you understand_ and give a shit now?"

Jessie smirked, turning on her heel and heading for the door. "Revenge? Me?" With that she was gone, the door slamming behind her and causing Persian to jump, rushing back under Giovanni's desk.

He began to pet his Pokemon again to comfort it, still looking at the door. "That girl's going to get herself killed." Looking down at Persian who returned his gaze and purred, rubbing its head against his hand, he concluded, "Maybe that's for the best."

 

* * *

 

So far the sum of her trip to Kalos had been less on the "work" side and more on the "get trashed to oblivion every night" side. Giovanni had been trying to contact her. Meowth and Mondo, too. She didn't need a scolding or to be told what to do - what she needed was to drink her way across the region until she was completely numb forever.

It hadn't even dawned on her that she was in Lumiose City. They all seemed to blend together after a while, especially when your sight was already bleary from alcohol. All she knew was that she was in a pretty okay restaurant, sitting at the bar, and whatever she had been feeling before was now a distant memory, drowned away in a sea of shots.

She didn't see him walk in - if she had, she would have made a clumsy dash for the bathroom. He saw her, though. Almost immediately. She sensed someone sitting down next to her but couldn't be bothered at the moment to give them the time of day - she had shots to drink.

"Jessie?"

She halted bringing the tiny glass to her lips. Drunk or not, she would know that voice anywhere. Why was he here? Why was he bothering her? Why couldn't everyone leave her the hell _alone_?

" _Professor_ ," she snidely replied, downing the shot that she had been putting off.

He frowned, signalling to the bartender to cut her off and cut her off quick. "What on earth are you doing back here?"

"Oh, so you aren't happy to see me?" She shook her head, starting to stack the shot glasses she had begun to accumulate in front of her. "That's not very nice."

His heart broke for her. He didn't think it was possible for it to hurt any more than it already did but she proved him wrong. It looked like she had been living on booze for who knows how long - when did she even come back? Why didn't she let him know?

"Of course I'm happy to see you," he said softly, rising from the bar stool. "I'm always happy to see you." He reached over and gently touched her arm, only barely able to duck out of the way when she tried to smack him across the face in response. "Where are you staying? I can get a cab and take you back there."

"Where do you _think_?" she spat, turning in the opposite direction and stumbling off her own bar seat. "You're a fucking _professor_. You should be able to figure it out."

Professor Sycamore sighed, running hand back through his hair. "The forest again."

"What can I say?" Jessie gave him a bitter smile, continuing to stumble around in an attempt to reach the door. "I'm an outdoorsy kind of girl."

He followed close behind her, ready to catch her if she finally just passed out and collapsed. "Are you sure you want to go back there?" He felt bad talking to her like a small child but in her state it seemed the only way to get through to her. "I can take you back to the lab. It's huge, you know. Plenty of space." Tailing her as she tried to get away from him on the street, he offered, "You could have your own space. I'll leave you alone and you can just be with Jessie for a little while. However long you want."

She stopped, nearly making him crash into her. "I want to be alone. I need to get used to being alone."

He hated seeing her like this. Placing an arm around her, he started to walk with her toward the lab. "Whatever you need." He thought it best not to argue with her about being alone - she was the furthest thing from alone but wouldn't see that right now. She may not even see it once she sobered up. All he could do was try to make her whatever resembled "happy" for her these days and take care of her as much as she would let him.

From the looks of it, he was going to have quite the uphill battle.


	2. Chapter 2

"What...the hell...is _that_?!" Jessie screeched, clinging to James as they both stared in terrified wonder at the beautiful but deadly invention that rose from the ground under Geosenge Town.

"I don't think it's good," James replied, getting him a smack in the stomach from Jessie.

" _Really_? Think it's bad news, James?!"

"Well, you _asked_!" he argued, trying to keep his balance as the earth shook underneath them.

"Shaddup, da both of yas!" Meowth yelled, using his paw to point at the strange object in question. "I tink dat's da ultimate weapon..."

Jessie and James exchanged looks and turned their attention back to what had finally fully emerged, all but destroying the small town in the process. The twerps were there, of course - trying as always to save the day. This was one of a handful of times Team Rocket didn't mind them butting in. That kid had some kind of luck, after all and had saved the world plenty of times before. This should be a cake walk for him! Pikachu could zap the thing and - cue the confetti!- twerp saves the day again!

"Pikachu, use thunder -"

"No!" came the distressed voice of what had to be twerpette number ten at this point, "if you use one of Pikachu's electric attacks, it might cause the whole thing to blow! Geosenge Town would be completely flattened and we'd all be killed!"

The trio all looked at each other and swallowed hard, slumping down behind the ruins of what was formerly a home. "If the twerp can't do anything with Pikachu..." Jessie trailed off.

"...we're blasting off for good," James finished, sliding his arms around her and pulling her close.

Meowth jumped up on a pile of debris that had formed from the ultimate weapon's reveal, peering over the top and watching as the group of twerps argued back and forth, then tried to come to an agreement, _then_ wondered what they do now...

"Maybe we can do something," James said out of nowhere, causing Jessie and Meowth to stare at him, wide-eyed. He slumped down slightly, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "I - I mean...why is it always the twerps that are the heroes? We've helped save the world before, too! We could do it again!"

His partners stared at him, then broke out into laughter. Jessie rested her head against his chest, patting it lovingly. Meowth laughed so hard he nearly fell. "What are _we_ supposed to do?" Jessie asked with a sigh, catching her breath from the laughter.

"Well...we've made mechas before, right? This is..." He leaned around the wood pile to take another look at the monstrosity that had destroyed everything once before and was more than capable of doing it again, "...like that."

"Have ya lost whateva is left of yer marbles?!" Meowth hissed, hopping down from his perch. "Dat ain't no mecha! Dat's a destroyer of worlds!"

"Our mechas blow up enough that -"

" _No_!" Meowth said sternly. "I say instead of sittin' around here, tryin' to beat da twerps to savin' everybody, we get da heck outta dodge!"

Jessie nodded, looking up at James. "I'm with Meowth. This is too much."

He frowned down at her, lifting a hand and brushing a few flyaway strands of hair from her face. "What if they don't figure something out in time? What if we can't get out of here? What if it doesn't matter because this thing can destroy _everything_?" He leaned down, kissing her softly, murmuring against her lips, "We have too much left to do together..."

Smiling, she rested her forehead against his, looking into his eyes. "And we will. We have all the time in the world. Or...we will once we get out of here."

"Yeah, dis is nice and all..." Meowth said, rubbing the back of his neck with his paw - he still wasn't quite used to Jessie and James being together and the vast amounts of P.D.A. that came along with it, "but if we're gonna leave, we'd better get goin' right about now!"

James sighed and nodded begrudgingly in agreement.

The trio stood up and began to quickly make their escape, far and away from the entire Kalos region when suddenly a thunderous whirling sound came from nowhere, making them cover their ears.

James turned back to the center of town and saw that the twerps were nowhere to be seen. He frowned, moving his gaze up to the cause of the awful sound - the ultimate weapon. His eyes widened and he turned back to his team, yelling especially loud to be heard over the sound and their hands, "It's too late! I think it's been activated!"

Jessie and Meowth also looked up, a blinding white light beginning to emerge from the depths of the powerful machine. "We're screwed!" Jessie yelled.

The wind began to pick up, whipping the debris all around the trashed town. Jessie screamed, cowering down and covering her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Meowth did the same, ducking behind one of the homes that hadn't sustained as much damage as the others. James began to crouch down next to Jessie but stopped, unable to tear his eyes away from the light. It soon enveloped everything he could see and was quickly followed by the biggest explosion any of them had ever heard - and that was saying a lot.

It was so strong it launched huge rocks and boulders into the air, disturbing some of the ancient stones Geosenge was known for. There was a loud crash somewhere down the path to the north, like someone had just set off a bomb inside a building. James stood in morbid awe of the whole thing - it really did look like the end of the world. His eyes aimed upward, they widened as big as he could ever recall at the sight of one airborne boulder headed right for them - or more specifically, Jessie.

" _Jessie_!" he called out, charging at her and pushing her out of the way as the boulder landed with a "thud", barely missing her.

She slid across the ground, scraping up her stomach and thighs in the process, then stood up, looking around amidst the thick clouds of smoke that swirled about in the air in the aftermath. Coughing, she desperately looked for James and Meowth. "James! Meowth! Where are you?!"

Meowth came up next to her after following the sound of her voice, coughing as well. It took him a moment before he jumped up into Jessie's arms, clutching her with his claws. "We're alive! We really are indestructible!"

Jessie shook her head, wrapping her arms tightly around him as though he were a stuffed animal there for her comfort. "I don't see James!"

"He's around, I'm sure! He's got da best luck of da both of us when it comes to dis kinda ting."

She began walking, waving her hand in front of her face to disperse the smoke so she could see. She had only taken a couple of steps before hitting her foot on an oddly placed boulder. "Ah, _fuck_!" she called out, bending down to tend to her throbbing toe.

The dust settled eerily fast after that. As it floated away, disappearing into nothingness, Jessie saw where James was and why he wasn't responding. She screamed, her eyes filling with hot tears, the throbbing of her foot now a distant memory as she dropped to her knees next to him, staring at the boulder that now partly sat on his lower body. By some insanity, he was conscious, his face banged up and dirty, uniform nearly shredded. He smiled weakly up at her, groaning in pain as he lifted his hand to brush against her wet cheek. "I saved you," he managed to get out before groaning louder than before, a sound that ripped Jessie's heart to shreds.

Jessie nodded vigorously, taking his hand in both of hers gently, tears streaming down her face. "You did. You really did. You're a real hero, James." She swallowed hard as he kept the smile on his face, his eyes fluttering shut. "Now you have to stay with me so you can get your reward! Money...a - a huge parade! All the bottle caps you could ever want!"

"I already have what I've always wanted..." he choked out softly, a dribble of blood coming from the corner of his mouth, "I have you."

His hand fell limp from her grasp and she stared at him, wide-eyed, shaking her head and repeating, "No, no, no..." over and over. She leaned down, putting her face to his, her hand touching his scraped cheek gently. "You're okay...you're okay. You have to be okay." Her sobs became more violent the longer he went without moving or speaking. She brushed her lips against his softly, closing her eyes and finally wrapping her arms around him, holding on for dear life. "You can't...you can't do this! You can't leave me here all by myself!" Her head fell to his chest and she buried her face in what was left of his uniform, unable to do anything but scream. Her body was wracked with sobs, clutching the fabric of his jacket. "Please don't go..." she quietly begged, burying her face back against his body, her own body shaking with grief and anger.

Meowth came running up with the twerps, also covered in dust and scratched up. The group stopped abruptly when they saw Jessie and then what had made her so very upset. Meowth slowly made his way to her, not taking his eyes off of James's body the whole while. "He - he's okay, ain't he?"

Jessie looked up only to start sobbing all over again, resting her head back against her love's chest.

He shook his head, going to Jessie's side, still staring in disbelief at the scene before him. "He can't be..."

The twerps had no idea what to say, Ash and Pikachu remaining as the rest of his friends ran, calling desperately for help. All he did was stare at who was once his enemy, looking so peaceful despite his injuries. Ash was waiting for him to get up and the three of them try to make a grab for Pikachu but the moment never came. He felt his legs go out from under him, knees weak, and he fell to them, still simply staring. He was gone - really and truly gone. Not just "blasting off again" but _gone_. He would never see him again. After everything they had put him through on his journeys, he should have felt a tiny twinge of relief; instead he felt guilt and regret, never wanting this to happen to him - never wanting this to happen to _any_ of them.

Pikachu tentatively went to Meowth, placing a paw on his back. Meowth broke down crying now as well, hugging Pikachu tightly and wailing what sounded like a sorrowful "meow", echoing across the now-empty town and reverberating against the trees.

Within moments formerly scared wild Pokemon peered out from behind bushes and trees, leafy branches and the underground. Meowth's sad song brought them out of hiding, lining the edge of the treeline. Some made sad, whimpering noises in return; others just looked on with long faces, their comrade's hurt becoming their own as well.

Jessie looked up at James's face one last time, tenderly brushing his hair away from his eyes - the way she always did - and it fell back into place - the way it always did. Softly, she said to him, "My hero."


	3. Chapter 3

Jessie awoke with a start, breathless, a mixture of tears and sweat running down her face. The same dream with the same ending: she was too late to save him. Again. Maybe it was better that way; after all, if she dreamed that he was alive and woke up to what had become her harsh, unforgiving reality, it was likely she wouldn't be able to take the gut-punch. Actually, a punch to the gut sounded much more pleasant.

She winced and squinted at the harsh afternoon Lumiose City sunlight that shone through the window, her head throbbing. Where the hell was she? What happened? And did anyone get the license plate of that semi that apparently hit her head-on?

Rubbing her eyes, attempting to gather her bearings, half-open, they scanned the room. There was nothing that looked familiar. It was fairly good-sized, the bed taking up most of the space that was otherwise occupied by a dresser and small nightstand. There were two doors - one leading out into...well, who knew what? and the other into a small bathroom.

She looked down at herself and furrowed her brow in confusion, only to curse at the pain it caused and wincing again. She was still decked out in her uniform - gloves and boots and all. She never went to sleep wearing all that garb. It was uncomfortable, for one thing.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she grumbled at the sun and the nerve it had. Wasn't it bad enough that the cheery warmth and brightness still happened when she could never imagine feeling any of those things ever again? Did it have to be right in her face, too?

Normally she would have gone into the bathroom and made herself somewhat presentable for whoever (or whatever) awaited her outside; but she felt too awful and annoyed and curious to bother. Maybe she had been kidnapped by a psychopath and he would kill her the second she emerged. Wouldn't that be nice?

The door gave out a long, high-pitched squeak as she opened it, causing her to put her hand to her forehead and try to rub the pain away. It wasn't until she started walking down the hall toward the living area that she realized how unsteady she was on her feet, leaning against the wall for support. Reaching the corner, she peeked her head around and blinked, putting her hand to her head again as it began to throb once more, this time in confusion.

In the kitchen stood Professor Sycamore, washing what appeared to be about two months' worth of dishes, getting assistance in putting them back in the cupboard from a Bulbasaur that used its vines to gently grab and place them in their home.

Suddenly she recalled...the night before? How long had it even been? She had made a fool of herself and was nothing but awful to him when all he was trying to do was help - not that she asked for it. She put her back against the wall and slumped down slowly until she sat on the floor. This was exactly what she _didn't_ want - someone she cared for worrying about her and taking care of her. Already she felt the pressure to put on a happy face for his sake and act as though everything was fine and her world hadn't been completely shattered. She hated that feeling. So much.

"Bulba!"

Jessie jumped, banging her head back against the wall and saying words that would make even the manliest sailor blush. Putting her hand to the back of her head, she whispered to the tiny Bulbasaur that had discovered her, "Shh! No! I'm not here. Go back and help in the kitchen!"

The Bulbasaur cocked its held and then smiled, bounding into her lap and making itself right at home. "Bulba..." it yawned.

She groaned, shaking it gently. "No, no, no! I have to go! You can't -"

"Looks like someone made a new friend."

Slowly she lifted her head upward, his smiling face looking back down at her as he dried a plate. "Yeah. Not sure who, though."

He laughed softly, kneeling down next to her and rubbing the Pokemon's head to many murmurs of delight and contentment. "I was wondering where this one got off to. Never finishes a job."

Jessie turned her head away from him, bemoaning her rotten luck. Not only had possibly the nicest guy in the known universe helped her but now his adorable baby Pokemon was trying to melt her icy heart. Couldn't she just be miserable in peace?

Lifting the now-sleeping Pokemon from her lap, he stood, smiling down at it lovingly as he took it over to a chair in the living room and put it down. He went back over to her and offered his hand, which she really had no choice but to accept given her current balance issues. "You look awful."

She narrowed her eyes at him and yanked her hand away, crossing her arms. "Thanks. You're a peach."

"Come on, why don't you sit down? I can make you something to eat -"

"I'll just puke it back up," she retorted.

He sighed, running a hand back through his hair. "All right, well...what about taking a shower or a bath? The main bathroom's right -"

"All I want to do is leave. I have a job, remember?"

Professor Sycamore crossed his arms now as well. "You didn't seem too concerned with that last night when you were drinking that restaurant dry."

She shot him a look that she sincerely hoped would knock him over so she could run to the door and get out. "What? I'm not allowed to have a few drinks and mellow out after a hard day's work?"

He shrugged, not budging from his spot. "Sure. You had just gone way past 'mellow' about six shots ago, that's all."

Jessie started for the door, trying to get past him, being met with his frame every single time. "I don't need anyone's help," she growled, clenching her fists. She knew it was an extremely adverse reaction to get angry at someone for being considerate, but she couldn't help it. How dare _anyone_ try to minimize her pain or control how she was dealing with it? It was none of their business - especially _his_ , of all people.

Grabbing her wrist, he looked into her eyes, swirling with more emotions than he could recognize: sadness, fear, shock, anger. He wanted so desperately to help her that it made him ache inside. "Not until you eat something. I can't let you go until I know you've actually had _food_ and not just alcohol. Deal?"

She was startled at how rough and tight his grip was. It was a stark contradiction to the softness in his face, the worry and love in his eyes. No, not love. It couldn't be love - not that kind. What kind of schmuck kept longing for the girl that broke his heart? James was that kind of schmuck. No one else could be James. Any similarities she noticed were brushed off as wishful thinking. So what if she had noticed it before? She had been without James then, as well. This time she wasn't about to settle for an imitation - for both her sake and Augustine's. " _Fine_ ," she conceded.

He let go of her and made his way back into the kitchen, putting the plate he had been drying away with the others. Heading over to the fridge, he scanned its contents for anything that was actually for people and not Pokemon. "I don't really cook that often..." He laughed slightly, leaning against the appliance as she cautiously climbed up onto a stool that went with the small island counter. "In fact, last night I was picking up some food when I came across you. Completely forgot about it, of course." He shut the fridge and looked around, stroking his chin in thought. "There must be something around here..."

"You don't have anything. It's fine. You tried. Can I go now?"

He smirked playfully, reaching into the sink and taking some of the cluster of bubbles the dish soap had produced on his finger, leaning onto the island across from her. "I have not yet _begun_ to try." He smeared the soap on her nose which made her lightning-fast reflexes grab _his_ wrist this time, something that wasn't overly shocking to him.

"Do something like that again and I'm biting the fucking thing off," she growled, using her other hand to wipe the residue off her face, still gripping his wrist tightly.

Professor Sycamore remained quiet as she rid her face of the bubbles, taking the moment to look at her. It had only been a few months ago when he'd seen her again for the first time in years. She was as beautiful as he remembered - maybe even more so. Being in love had the tendency to do that to people. She was so happy. It didn't take a professor to figure out that James was likely her soul mate; and now he was gone. He couldn't even begin to wrap his head around what that must have been like for her.

"Don't give me that look," Jessie said roughly, though quieter than she had been. "I don't need anyone's sympathy. I don't _want_ their pity. And I especially don't want any of _yours_."

He smiled sadly at her, the dark circles under her eyes somehow making her sapphire ones stand out even more. "No pity. Sympathy, yes. I'm a human being, we tend to feel empathy." His eyes darted to his hand which was still held captive by hers, her gaze following his and immediately dropping it to land on the counter with a "thud." He winced. "I was actually thinking how impossible it would be for me to try and understand what you're going through. Not many people in the world can. A loss like that..." He shook his head a little, rubbing his hand with his other one. "That doesn't happen every day."

She turned up her nose to him, looking away with a huff. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Professor Sycamore blinked and then began to nod slowly, the sad smile returning to his face. "That's one of the stages of grieving, you know - denial."

"How can I be in fucking denial when it's right in front of my face every day that he's not here?"

"Well..." he started, cautiously, leaning against the island once again, "in all fairness, it seems like you're over-achieving a little. I can see the denial, the anger, the desperation for things to be different, the depression...it's all right there written on your face."

She glanced at him, then turned back to the wall she had been facing. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

He shrugged. "Maybe not. I'm no psychologist. What I _do_ know..." He went around the island and sat down on the stool next to her, blocking her view of the wall she'd been so interested in, "is that acceptance is the only thing that makes all the others just a little more bearable. You'll never stop getting a phone call and thinking it might be him for a split-second, or being angry and sad that he's gone, or wishing that things could've turned out differently." Reaching over to her, he gently took her hand in his. "But once you accept that not only is he gone...but it's okay to feel all those things because of that fact, you'll be better off. I promise."

Jessie tried to blink back the tears in her eyes, turning her head away from him again, not wanting him to see. Her foot tapped incessantly against the floor and she bit her lip nearly in half trying to keep it from quivering. Who did he think he was? What kind of person purposely upsets another and then claims it to be for their benefit? What kind of _asshole_ was he? The questions continued to buzz around her still-throbbing head as she hunched over, breaking down into uncontrollable sobs the likes of which she hadn't experienced since that day in Geosenge Town.

"Jessie..." he murmured, standing up and wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly as she gasped for breath amidst her anguished cries.

She slumped down from the stool, sliding to her knees on the cool linoleum of the kitchen floor, Professor Sycamore going with her and never letting her go once. Clutching his shirt, all she could do was cry and scream her frustration and heartache. "He's dead!" she wept, her body sliding down once again to lay limp on the floor, her face buried in his lap. "Why is he dead?!" she screamed, still loud and heartbreaking despite having been muffled.

He pulled her tangled hair out of her face and let it drop behind her shoulder, running his fingers through it and leaning down, making soothing noises and trying to get her to calm down. This was good, technically; but he feared what flood of emotions he may have unleashed, as well. She was weak and hadn't eaten in...well, he had no real clue but it had to have been at least a day. If she kept up at this rate, she would cry until she passed out - or worse.

Concerned, Bulbasaur came trotting over, awoken from its nap by her sobs, tilting its head and trying to understand what was going on and why. Professor Sycamore tried to give it a reassuring smile before collecting her in his arms and standing. He carried her as she continued to cry, trying to choke back her sobs and catch her breath, her chest tight and burning inside.

Walking into the spare room she'd been staying in, he gently laid her down on the bed, stomach twisting at the sight of her suddenly tiny, shaking body curling up into a ball. He had promised her that she could be alone and figure things out for herself. If he was there when she stopped, he'd get the shit knocked out of him - a thought that made him smile despite himself.

Stroking her hair once more, he stood, forcing himself to pull away from her; but as he turned, his assaulted wrist was grasped once again, tenderly this time. He looked back at her, her eyes pleading, the tears spilling from them only adding depth to the oceans he could see himself drowning in.

"Please don't go..." she whispered, lowering her hand, letting her fingers brush against his as it fell.

He nodded slightly, kicking off his shoes and laying down next to her. His heart still pounded fiercely in his chest, the beautiful and disturbing way she looked at him something he couldn't shake and would surely remember for the rest of his life. She curled up next to him, resting her head against his chest, a quiet sob echoing in the room every now and then. He wrapped his arms around her, never needing to hold someone and not let go more in his entire life.

As she finally cried herself to sleep, he stared up at the ceiling, unconsciously letting his fingers brush up and down her lower back. He was an awful person. He hadn't known James for very long but what he _did_ know, he liked and knew he was a good man. What kind of person finds themselves feeling old feelings that should have long been buried during a time like this? What was _wrong_ with him? He couldn't let her go - physically or otherwise - and it made him question everything about himself.

Tilting his head down, he kissed the top of her head lightly and closed his eyes only to open them again almost immediately, feeling her tug at his shirt. She was still asleep and he frowned, watching as she dreamed and her eyes fluttered against the heavy lids that had finally fallen. He wondered what it was she was dreaming about and hoped that for once, maybe, it was something good.


	4. Chapter 4

The phone woke him up - abruptly at that - and it took him a few seconds to get his bearings.

Jessie was still there, curled up in the same tiny ball he'd laid on the bed earlier in the day. He couldn't help but take a moment and look at her, smiling slightly. The thought ran through his mind to just let the phone ring and stay with her but at the end of the day, he was a professor and that responsibility wasn't one that he took lightly.

Running a hand through his hair and rubbing his face in an attempt to wake himself up, Professor Sycamore quietly stood and made his way out to the living room. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" he mumbled with a yawn.

He picked up the phone and, upon seeing who was staring at him on the other end, woke right the hell up. His eyes narrowed and he tightened his grip on the receiver. "I'm calling Officer Jenny."

Lysandre gazed back at him with a cold calmness that deeply unnerved him. Most everything about Lysandre unnerved him now, especially when he thought about the fact that he had considered this man a good friend and shared information about mega-evolution with him. What did that say about him? "That's not necessary. I've only called because I have a proposition for you."

He shook his head, laughing bitterly. "Why would I ever help you? Don't you realize what you've done?"

In the bedroom, Jessie stirred and rolled over with a groan, feeling next to her and finding nothing. She frowned and opened her eyes. How long had she been asleep? One day she would be able to wake up without asking herself that question. It was dark outside, that's all she knew - that and the sound of a hushed voice coming from the living room.

Rolling out of bed and quietly sneaking down the same hallway as earlier that day, Jessie frowned once again as she got closer. The hushed voice seemed to be trying to hold back and not scream at the person on the other end.

Glancing around the corner, her frown only grew at the revelation that Professor Sycamore was the one trying to keep calm. She couldn't help but wonder who was on the phone and why it had made him so uncharacteristically upset.

"I failed; but I have plans, Augustine. I'd like for you to be a part of them. It's a bit more your expertise than mine."

"The only plans you should be making are ones for jail!" He shook his head in awed disbelief. "You _killed_ people, Lysandre. Important people. _Good_ people. Doesn't that defeat your purpose entirely?"

Jessie's heart stopped for a split-second at the familiar name: Lysandre. She stared across the room at the video phone and the man dressed in red that appeared on its screen. She felt like punching a wall, throwing up, and bursting into tears all at the same time. This was the sick son of a bitch that took James away from her.

So why then, exactly, was he calling Augustine?

"I'm offering you the chance to further explore mega-evolution in ways you never could have imagined," Lysandre said, his former friend's pleas falling on deaf and stubborn ears.

"And I'm telling you _no_."

Lysandre let out a long, slow sigh before giving in. "I'm at the hotel in Camphrier Town if you change your mind."

Professor Sycamore rubbed the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. "Why would you tell me that? I can have Officer Jenny there in minutes."

"But you won't." With that, the screen went back to black and Professor Sycamore quietly hung up the phone.

He turned around, his heart sinking at the sight of his house guest staring back at him. Her face was mixed with hurt and confusion; the way she gripped the corner of the wall displayed her anger. Nothing he could say would make a damn bit of difference right now. To Jessie, he was now cavorting with the enemy and the trust that they had built on already shaky ground was crumbling.

He took a step toward her, mouth opening to say something - anything - but silence being the end result. Closing his mouth, he looked down, her puffy red eyes burning through him, unable to take it any longer.

"Why are you talking to him?" Jessie finally asked, her voice quiet and wavering.

Another step forward, eyes still planted anywhere but on her. "It's not what you're thinking."

"You don't know what I'm thinking," she shot back.

"You're right, you're right. I don't. I'm sorry."

Biting her lip, she averted her gaze from him as well. How could she have been so stupid? Since when did she let some _guy_ flash her a smile and pretend to give a shit about her and actually fall for it? Stupid. She was so incredibly stupid. "I have to go," she said abruptly, turning around and heading back for the bedroom.

Professor Sycamore sighed and stayed put for a few moments, debating with himself whether to follow her or not and try to explain himself. His eyes moved to the window and he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. It was night out, for crying out loud. He couldn't let her leave and wander Lumiose City - especially when she was upset.

Jessie was already putting her boots back on, sitting on the bed when he cautiously stepped in to the doorway. It was like trying to lure a Stantler to you - you had to be quiet, not ambush it, and let the entire encounter be dictated by them. She looked up at him, tugging her other boot on. "You'd better let me leave this time."

He shook his head and leaned against the door frame. "I can't."

She narrowed her eyes at him and stood, hands on her hips. "Why? So you can deliver me to your bestie Lysandre and he can finish me off, too?" Grabbing her gloves from the bed, she slipped them on. "Doesn't sound half bad, actually," she muttered.

"It's late. I understand that you want to go and..." He took a deep breath and looked away from her. "And in the morning, if you still want to go, I won't stop you."

Looking at him sadly, she crossed her arms and looked to the opposite side of the room. "I can't stay with someone I don't trust."

"I understand. Truly, I do." He swallowed hard and shut his eyes, saying softly, "One more night. In the morning you can leave."

She took a deep breath and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "You aren't going to try and defend yourself at all?"

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Would you believe anything I had to say?"

"At least you would be _trying_..." she trailed off, unsure of where her thought process was headed. "I'm not staying unless you tell me everything," she said at last, sitting back down on the bed.

"Fair enough." He sat down on the other side, their backs to each other. "Lysandre was my friend. A very good friend, or so I thought. He had these ideas about the world..." He shrugged again, staring down at the floor. "I never thought that he would do this. I didn't think he was capable of hurting another living thing."

"Wasn't that the whole point? Get rid of everything and start over with his weird little group?"

He nodded and sighed heavily. "I didn't realize how serious he was until it was too late." Shaking his head, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Too late for a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"I shared with him some of my findings on mega-evolution."

Glancing back over her shoulder, Jessie stated flatly, "Well that was fucking dumb."

He couldn't help but laugh a little, nodding in agreement. "Not the brightest professor, am I?" Not getting a response, he continued, "He was someone that I could bounce ideas off of...his knowledge of Pokemon is incredible and, believe it or not, his dreary outlook was actually helpful. He kept me grounded."

"Maybe you should be helping him, then."

"You can't think that I approve of what he did...or had anything to do with it."

"I don't know. The first person we always called after a failure was Mondo. He may not have been directly involved with any of what we did, but he supplied us with all the stupid shit we used to try and steal that Pikachu."

"I...suppose in that case, I _did_ help him in some ways."

Jessie tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling and trying to keep her tears from spilling out. "How could you sit there today and comfort me and let me cry on your shoulder, spewing every fucking feeling I've had since James -" She caught herself and swallowed hard. "He was the only person that could ever get me to do that...and then when you did, I..." she trailed off again, closing her eyes.

"I meant everything I said and did, Jessie..." He turned around, facing her, reaching out to put his hand on her shoulder but stopping himself, letting it drop to the bed. "He wanted me to join him in his newest plan. I don't know what it is but I'm hoping that without my help, he won't get very far."

"I want to kill him," she stated simply.

"I know...but that won't solve anything. It won't bring James back and it'll only get you into trouble. He's not worth it."

"James needs justice, Augustine!"

"And he'll get it. I promise you."

"How can you when he was right? You didn't call Officer Jenny."

"That's not the right way to deal with Lysandre. More people would end up hurt or worse. I'll just have to..." He sighed and shrugged slightly, helplessly, "...drag him into jail myself."

After a few moments of intense silence, the air in the room thick and stuffy between them, Jessie finally asked, "Why do you do that?"

He blinked at her, confused. "What?"

"Why do you take on everything like it's your obligation? Me, Lysandre...you should let us both go and stumble and make our own mistakes. For better or worse."

"I can't do that. Not with you, at least."

"Why?" Inwardly she cringed immediately after asking. She didn't need to hear him tell her his reasons. She didn't _want_ to hear them.

He laughed slightly, looking down at the bed. "You know why. I care about you. You've stumbled more than enough for one lifetime. I want you to be happy and on solid ground again."

Jessie swallowed hard, starting to remove her gloves. "One more night."

"That's all I'm asking for."

"I don't want you sleeping with me."

"I have my own room. I'll be in there if you need me," he replied, standing up and heading for the door.

"Don't hold your breath," she grumbled in return, laying down on the bed and curling up once again.

 

* * *

 

Staring up at the ceiling, Jessie laid sprawled out across the bed. Sleep was eluding her and she realized that her insomnia was the reason she got so plastered all the time; at least passing out sort of counted as sleeping, right?

Rolling over to her side, putting her hands under her head, she frowned in the darkness at nothing. It had been terribly hard to sleep without James next to her but this wasn't about that - this was about knowing exactly where Lysandre was and hurting him the way he'd hurt her.

Giovanni's words echoed in her head but she brushed them aside. The bastard was probably so keen on finding Lysandre because he wanted to team up and do who knows what. How could he expect her to sit on the sidelines and do nothing while that waste of space and oxygen was allowed to walk around Kalos?

Abruptly, she sat up, teeth and fists clenched. He couldn't expect her to do that. No one could expect her to do that. This was _James_ \- her sweet, goofy James; she would rather die trying than sit around doing nothing.

She noticed for the first time when she got up that somehow her meager belongings had been brought to the room. It probably wasn't the smartest idea to camp out in the same area she had with James and Meowth when she first saw Augustine again. She hadn't even done it on purpose, finding herself drawn there as if by a sweet scent attack.

She sat on the edge of the bed and debated whether or not to take her things with her. There were two plausible outcomes of what she was about to do and a thousand crazy ones in between. The two she was most certain of would mean that she didn't need any of her stuff - well, most of her stuff.

Getting up off the bed slowly, she knelt down in front of her bag and began to dig around inside. She hadn't brought any of her Pokemon with her (not that anyone knew this) but she wasn't very interested in battling, anyway. There was only one thing on her mind and no Pokemon was going to do it. Sitting back on her heels, she pulled her gun out and stared at it as the moonlight shone against it through the window. Briefly, she was impressed with herself for getting as loaded as she had and never shooting herself or anyone else on accident. Truthfully, she wasn't overly thrilled with the idea of gunning anyone down; but Lysandre deserved to die and she was hardly patient enough to draw it out and torture him - this seemed like the best and, really, _only_ option.

Sticking the gun in the waist of her skirt, behind her and against the small of her back, Jessie walked with purpose to the living room. Everything was dark save for a small overhead light dimly illuminating the kitchen. She went to the door as quietly as possible but stopped herself, eyes darting to the closed door a few feet away that she assumed had to be Augustine's room. As shitty as things had turned out, he _had_ helped her and shown her undeserved affection and understanding; she should leave a note, at least.

Eyes scanning the kitchen, she noticed papers upon papers put up on the fridge. He was still a disorganized mess, Jessie thought, telling herself that she wasn't smiling at the thought of _him_ but at the thought of finally giving his so-called "friend" what he deserved. She grabbed a piece of paper from its magnet and found a pen nearby, scribbling on the unused side.

She left it on the kitchen island, her stomach twisting as the comparison to leaving him all those years ago and leaving him now flashed at her in neon light. She couldn't say that she was doing this for his own good this time, though; this was pure retaliation to make _herself_ feel slightly better about things.

Deep down, she knew that Augustine was right - killing Lysandre wouldn't bring James back; but it would sure feel pretty fucking amazing.

 

* * *

 

Professor Sycamore finally decided to give up on getting any kind of sleep at around five in the morning.

He got up and went through his usual routine quietly, so as not to wake the girl in the room down the hall. It was all half-hearted - getting into the shower only to stand under the lukewarm water for a few seconds and get out; forgoing brushing his teeth for only mouth wash; letting his thick, dark hair remain the disheveled mess he'd woken up and showered with. He wouldn't have even gotten dressed were it not for Jessie because, despite his own angst, he still had to be strong for her and get her through another day...or at least as long as she decided to stay.

He went into the kitchen and started to brew some coffee, making it as strong as humanly possible. Idly, he glanced at the island and raised an eyebrow at the paper that rested there. Picking it up, a wave of dread washed over him the likes of which he'd never experienced before. He had to read it three times to fully process what was happening and then cursed - loudly - at himself for wasting time.

Turning off the coffee machine and scrambling into his bedroom to gather some things, he let the paper slowly drift down to the kitchen floor below. Its contents looped in his head so clearly that he could almost hear her reading it to him.

_Augustine,_

_I have to do what I have to do...for James._

_Don't hate me._


	5. Chapter 5

Even Jessie expected to lose some of her nerve on the way to Camphrier Town. The trip wasn't overly long or arduous but going on foot still lent her enough time to contemplate things. There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she would show up in town and immediately want to turn tail and run; but that nagging only made her more angry and intent on finishing what she came to do. If anyone could heckle themselves and then get pissed off about it, it would certainly be Jessie.

The sound of her boot heels on the cobblestone streets echoed in her ears like a time bomb slowly ticking away. The fuse disappeared faster and faster with every step, enveloped in a spark that shot out from it like fireworks.

Standing outside the Hotel Camphrier, she clenched her fists and gazed up at the building before her; somewhere inside was the man who took James away from her and didn't even care, concerned only with whatever the hell his master plan was now.

Fury burned inside of her as she stomped in through the front doors, forgoing acknowledging anyone at the front desk - even when they gasped, pointed, and began chattering in hushed voices about the gun that was against her back - starting up the stairs to the second story.

Subtly was not one of Jessie's strong suits on a good day, let alone when her boiling blood was about to spill over. She stood at the end of a long hallway, closed doors against the walls on either side of her all the way to the end. As strange as it seemed, she could almost feel his presence, closer now to her goal than ever before.

Fists still clenched, she screamed out down the corridor, "Where the _fuck_ are you, you piece of shit?!"

She stood waiting, breathing heavily, reaching back behind her to pull out her gun and have it at the ready. She wasn't in the mood for small talk; all she wanted in that very moment was to put a bullet in his head and walk away.

There was now a discrepancy in the doors leading down the hallway, one two doors down on her right suddenly open. Well, at least he was self-aware enough to assume that anyone calling out a piece of shit would likely be looking for him.

Despite her need to spill his blood, Jessie's pace was slow as she made her way to the open door. She stopped just outside of it and looked down at her gun, cocking it and making sure there would be no ifs, ands, or buts about how long it took for Lysandre to end up dead on the floor. When she looked up again she jumped back slightly, the man that she'd seen on the phone with Augustine now right in front of her.

Quickly she raised her gun only to have him grab her wrist roughly, squeezing it harder and harder until she let go, giving him possession of the weapon now. She glared at him and tried to pull away but was overpowered and shoved into the hotel room, stumbling as he let her go and falling to the floor. Who knew someone that dressed like _that_ could be so strong?

The door slamming shut behind them, Jessie stayed where she was on the floor, hunched over and kneeling, the time bomb inside of her ready to burst. She watched him through hooded eyes as he nonchalantly walked past her, looking at the gun with distaste before removing the clip, placing it on a nearby desk, and tossing the now-useless piece on the bed.

"Violence has never solved anything," he said blandly, pulling out the desk chair and sitting in it.

"Said the son of a bitch who nearly destroyed the whole fucking region because his mommy didn't love him enough," she retorted, lifting her head slightly to meet his eyes.

Lysandre raised an eyebrow, folding his hands in his lap and resting back in the chair. "And you are?"

"Going to end your miserable life."

"How do you plan to do that without a weapon?"

Sitting up and resting back on her heels, she held up her still-clenched fists. "Who says I don't have a weapon?"

He sighed heavily, forcing himself to leave the chair and kneel down in front of her on the floor. "I easily took care of those so-called _weapons_ when I got that gun away from you. Or have you forgotten already?"

Jessie growled, taking a swing at him only to be met with mind-numbing pain, his hand around her fist, squeezing it like a ripe berry. She yelled out, hunching over again, fingers on her free hand digging in against the carpet.

Lysandre stopped upon hearing a "pop" causing the strange, angry girl in front of him to scream out once again. "If you would tell me who you are, maybe I would be a bit more welcoming."

She held her trembling hand up, her index finger twisted gruesomely inside her glove. Looking up at him, she narrowed her eyes, teeth clenched in anger and pain. "Jessie. Team Rocket."

His eyebrows raised slightly, both names sounding familiar but unsure why. He watched, unmoved by the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "That tells me nothing. You shouldn't threaten people and take matters in to your own hands if you aren't prepared to handle the possible outcome yourself."

"You're one to talk," Jessie muttered, shaking the tears from her eyes and forcing her body to stop shaking from the pain that shot through her like a thunderbolt.

Another sigh and in seconds his hand was gripping her lower jaw, fingers digging in on one side and his thumb on the other. He slammed her back against the foot of the bed and, maintaining his cool demeanor despite the situation, stated again, "I want to know who you are and how you found me."

She tried not to let the rising fear inside of her show on her face or in her voice, barely able to speak with his hand clutching her jaw. "Augustine," she replied and immediately winced as his grip tightened.

Lysandre's face grew dark - cold, unfeeling eyes locking on her wide ones. " _You_ ," he said, his voice venomous with the realization of her identity.

Most people he could certainly do without; Augustine Sycamore was not one of them. He had been his one and only true blue friend throughout most of his life and was the one thing other than the loss of Pokemon that truly made him reconsider his position on the world.

When Augustine had returned from Hoenn, he was a different man for months after. Lysandre eventually got him to open up about what had happened - _who_ had happened, specifically - and soon after his friend started to return to the positive way of thinking that had made him so interesting to Lysandre in the first place.

Even then, however, the professor still struggled, focusing on his research to an unsettling degree and prompting the future leader of Team Flare to take an interest in his work, if only so he would have some type of human contact other than the deliveries of meals he'd ordered from cafes in town.

Professor Sycamore had accomplished great things already but Lysandre couldn't help but wonder what more he would have been able to do had he not been stuck on the merry-go-round of heartbreak. Maybe the world wouldn't be such a dismal place.

The girl in front of him had to be one of the worst offenders he had encountered thus far. She was a heartless criminal who clearly didn't have much of a problem with murdering people in cold blood. For everything that Augustine was to him, she suddenly embodied the exact opposite. He wished he had done far more than simply break her finger and likely bruise her face. At least the day was still young.

"Do you understand what you did?" he asked.

Meeting his icy glare and returning it, she replied, "Do _you_?"

He jerked her head forward, bringing it closer to him. "You _destroyed_ him," Lysandre hissed.

Jessie's heart sank, her stiffened body going slightly limp, eyes softening. "I know," she whispered.

Shoving her head back against the end of the bed again, he continued, "He may have gone on to become something amazing, but he has _never_ gotten over you. And now you use him to get to me and exact...what is it, exactly, that you'd like?"

Swallowing down the building lump in her throat, she continued to whisper, "You killed my soul mate."

He stared at her in disbelief, almost taken aback beyond reason that she would dare show her face in Kalos, let alone make contact with Augustine - and for what? To avenge her "soul mate." What a selfish, inconsiderate brat. His dark thoughts only became darker...if she missed her beloved so much, she should join him.

"You," he began, voice filled with contempt, "are the one that killed your 'soul mate.' _You_ are the reason I long for a different, better world. In fact," he paused, pressing her head back against the bed before abruptly letting go, "if you were gone, that would surely make me loathe this world a little less."

Lysandre fought back a smirk at her reaction, blue eyes wide and glistening with tears, mouth moving and yet nothing coming out. "Of course...you've thought all of this before, haven't you?" With a barely noticeable nod in reply, her eyes darting away from him, he continued, "Tell me, then..." He leaned forward, grabbing her the same way again and forcing her to face him, "why are you still here?"

Jessie let the tears spill down her cheeks, shaking her head as much as his grip would allow. "I don't know."

"Nor do I. If you were willing to kill me, you must not be very concerned with leaving anyone behind as you rotted away in jail for the rest of your life. With no one to care about - and more importantly, no one to care about _you_ \- tell me how you've managed not to kill yourself yet." He dropped his hand from her face once again, his own revenge getter sweeter by the moment. "Especially since you would be reunited with the person you love so much." Lysandre sat back, watching the tears come flooding down her cheeks. "If _I_ had lost someone I loved so dearly and I knew of a way to be with them again, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment."

His words swirled around in her head, everything he had said making so much more sense than anything she had felt or thought since James's death. Her heart ached to see him again, to touch him and tell him how much she loved him, apologizing for every horrible thing she had ever said or did to him, for betraying him with the pangs of affection she felt for Augustine. For the first time in a long time, everything seemed so clear.

Keeping his eyes on her, he slowly stood from his position on the floor and reached for the empty gun on the bed, turning briefly to grab the cartridge from the desk and slam it into place. Lowering his arm, he offered it to her wordlessly.

Looking at the gun and yet not really seeing it, she reached up and gingerly took it from his hand. Her own was shaking and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to get composed enough to make a decent kill shot. It would be her luck if she botched killing herself, too.

Faintly, she heard someone calling her name as if through a dream, eyes opening and locking on the pistol in her hand. Far off sounds of banging on doors muddled around inside her head, mixing with the anxious sound of her name and Lysandre's words. Unaware of the confrontation that had started at the door, silly little things James had said to her joined the mix, punctuated by her final conversation with him. Her name became louder and clearer, the miserable fog she had trapped herself in slowly lifting.

Augustine took the gun away from her and dropped the clip to the floor before placing a hand against her bruising cheek. He jerked his head to the side and shot Lysandre an angry look as she stayed still, still staring at her hand where the gun once was. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing she wasn't already doing to herself," Lysandre retorted, regarding him with wariness. "Did you actually think that by attempting to help her that she would fall in love with you?"

He clenched his teeth, sliding his hand to the back of her head and pulling her to him, softly kissing the top of her head. "She needed a friend. I seem to recall you needing that very same thing a long time ago."

He narrowed his eyes, taking a step toward him. "Come now, Augustine...you're a professor. Surely you're smarter than this."

Picking the catatonic Rocket up in his arms, he slowly stood and turned to Lysandre. "Not only do I want no part in whatever sadistic plan you've come up with now..." He lowered his voice, uncharacteristically harsh, "I want nothing to do with you."

His jaw clenched as well, eyes scanning the girl who lay limp in his arms. "How can you be so foolish? How can you still love her after everything -"

"How can I still be your friend after everything _you've_ done?"

The rejection hit him dead-on, nearly knocking him backward. All he was trying to do was save him from more heartbreak and humiliation. Being looked over and dropped for _her_ was another grave injustice in the world - a world that had spun Augustine around so fast and so hard that he clearly didn't know which way was up and which was down...who he should put his faith in and who he should leave crumbling in a hell of their own making.

Taking another big step forward, Lysandre grabbed Jessie's injured hand and squeezed again, the pain bringing her out of her piteous thoughts and causing her to scream. He let her hand drop and watched with disgust and disappointment as Augustine set her down on the bed, being so careful not to hurt her.

He stepped to the professor, grabbing him abruptly by the collar with one hand and sending a hard punch across his cheek. Lysandre stood over him after the force of the blow made him fall to the ground, pressing his foot against his chest to keep him there. "You always hurt the one you love," he sneered.

Suddenly there was a loud smack, a sickly ring accompanying it, time seeming to slow as Lysandre realized he had just been hit. Wobbling backward, he put his hand to the back of his head and pulled it back again, dark red barely visible against his gloves. He was only just beginning to gather his bearings when he heard the sound again, a sharp pain in his face the last thing he recalled before falling to the floor, unconscious.

Breathing hard, her body shaking almost uncontrollably, Jessie stood over Lysandre, the hotel room phone in her good hand. Augustine winced as he slowly stood, making his way over to her and gently taking the phone from her hand, tossing it to the floor, the makeshift weapon letting out another brief ring as it crashed.

She stared at Lysandre, her eyes following the trail of blood that now dripped down his face. Tentatively, Augustine slid his arms around her quivering form, murmuring softly to her, "It's okay. It's over."

Lysandre's words were replaced with his, both old and new: the giggly sweet-nothings they whispered to each other in the warmth of summer nights followed by his recent admission of how he cared for her even now.

Suddenly exhausted - the lack of sleep, pain, and emotional drainage catching up to her - she let herself rest against Professor Sycamore's body limply. She wanted to burst into tears but simply didn't have the energy, thankful when he picked her up in his arms again.

Once outside the room, he let her lean against the wall for a moment while he went back inside and pulled the desk chair to the hall. Shutting the door behind himself, he wedged the back of the chair against the doorknob, trapping the person he used to know inside.

Picking up Jessie again, he started for the stairs, saying softly, "We'll get Officer Jenny here. He has nowhere to run now and no one to turn to."

 

* * *

 

The pain in her finger and hand had become only a dull throb underneath the cast around her finger and brace around her wrist and hand. She had only been wearing it for a few hours and already her healthy fingers were stiff and she longed to bend her wrist - possibly to smack the nearest person in the face.

Officer Jenny suggested that the two stay in Camphrier Town for the night. This resulted in every barely legal hostess and housekeeper in the hotel swarming around the professor, setting him up in one of the nicest rooms the small town hotel had to offer. As if what had transpired that day didn't put her in enough of a shitty mood, she had to watch him laugh nervously and attempt to get rid of the fangirls in the most polite way possible. Jessie had been ready to get up and smash another phone on somebody's head when she heard one of them say something about "we have a room for your friend" only to be immediately shot down by the reply, "That's not necessary, she'll be staying in here with me." The glares that were turned her way made her send them a bright, overly cheery smile and a small wave. It didn't take very much for Professor Sycamore to get them out after that.

If she had been in better spirits, she would have jumped on the bed and banged the headboard against the wall, moaning loudly simply to spite them; as it was, though, she barely had the energy to sit on the bed and stare at her hand, pumping the fingers that could achieve it to try and make them feel better. Part of her wanted to sleep forever and forget about everything and everyone; the other part begged her to stay awake, afraid of what dreams may come.

Slipping out of her boots and skirt with some degree of difficulty and plenty of expletives, Jessie finally got to lay back in the bed in her black tank top and panties and stare up at the ceiling. The pain had intensified for the moment, aggravated by the audacity of its victim trying to do something. She pumped her fingers again, bringing her good hand to her face and touching her jaw and cheeks, wincing slightly. Suddenly she was extremely grateful that she had no access to a mirror.

The door opening and closing, Jessie tilted her head to look across the room at Augustine, who seemed exasperated. He rested back against the door and shut his eyes, making a face at the swollen and bruised one's refusal to close all the way.

Jessie frowned, rolling over onto her side. "What is it?"

He opened his eyes and sighed heavily, sitting down on the other side of the bed and running a hand through his hair. "I found out why Jenny was so insistent on us staying here today."

Jessie snorted, rolling onto her back again and putting her good hand behind her head. "She wants to bang you, too?"

Raising an eyebrow at her, he shook his head a little and continued, "Listen," he stopped so he could crawl up to her, sliding his shoes off the edge of the bed, looking down at her and blocking her view of the eggshell-white ceiling above, "I don't want you to get upset but...if I didn't tell you and something happened -"

"Will you just fucking spit it out?" she interrupted, glaring back up at him.

Sighing again, he said, "Lysandre escaped."

Staring at him for a moment, she then began to laugh softly, closing her eyes tightly. "Of course he did."

"Jenny thinks it was through the window...how he got it open and managed to jump and survive with a head injury like that is -"

"Please, it was only the second floor. I've fallen from higher and with second degree burns all over myself." She rolled over and put her back to him, bringing her legs up to her chest. "Besides, it seems pretty obvious that he's not human to begin with."

Augustine looked down at the bed briefly before sliding back to the edge and starting to unbutton his shirt, exposing a large bandage that wrapped around his chest. It was only some bruising but the nurses had insisted - something that Jessie had decided was solely so they could cop a feel.

Continuing to strip down to his boxers, he watched her, brain running a thousand miles per hour. She couldn't expect him to simply let what he'd walked in on go as if it were water under the bridge. Getting drunk to take the pain away was one thing; but to do something about it permanently was another and something he never thought that she would ever consider. She wasn't one to be so easily manipulated and yet Lysandre had gotten into her head so deep so fast...it stood to reason that maybe he had been right and all those thoughts were circling around her head the whole time - he was only verbalizing what she already thought to be true.

That explanation didn't make Augustine feel much better.

Crawling back in to bed next to her, he laid on his back now and put his hands behind his head slowly and carefully, making a face anyway at the small jab of pain that shot through his chest as he did. He really couldn't believe that she had actually left and came so close to making good on her promise of justice for James. In retrospect, he didn't know _why_ , exactly, it surprised him - this was Jessie, after all. Not even years apart had changed her penchant for acting without much thinking.

Turning his head to the side to face her, he smiled sadly. Lysandre hadn't been right about a lot of things lately, in Augustine's opinion; but unfortunately for everyone involved, he had been dead-on about his feelings for Jessie. Why wouldn't he be? He had been the one that listened to him talk about her for months after his return from abroad. Lysandre had often rolled his eyes at the sentiments and almost always shoved a cup of coffee into his face when the hint of tears were forming in his eyes to try and keep them from falling. He always knew that he was deeply embarrassed whenever he talked about love or romance and relationships in general; but he never thought that he would go so far as to...

Augustine sighed, lifting his hand and reaching over to gently brush some hair out of Jessie's face. If he had shown up only a few seconds later...suddenly he realized that this feeling must be how she felt all the time, her situation ten times worse. She was safe and still he ran through the worst case scenario in his head over and over - what if the cab had gotten caught at that one light? What if Lysandre hadn't opened the door to him? What if it was five seconds later and he found out what room they were in by the sound of a gun shot? The thought of finding her like that make him sick to his stomach; but that was what she was dealing with every second of every day.

James really _had_ gotten hurt. He really _was_ gone. The only "what-if"s were ones that consisted of a happy ending. As terrible as his thoughts were about finding Jessie dead like that, thoughts of happiness that might have been had to be so much worse than thoughts of tragedy that had been avoided.

Swallowing hard, her body tensing up as he continued to stroke her hair, she said quietly, "Just say it."

He let his hand fall back to the bed, eyes still locked on the form that lay curled up next to him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry that you've felt so alone and desperate. I knew there was nothing I could ever do that would help things but...I also never thought -"

"Is what he said true?" she asked, biting the inside of her lip.

"That you shouldn't be here? Jessie, you know -"

"No," she said, shaking her head slightly. "That I destroyed you...and you never got over me."

Augustine smiled a little, lifting his hand again and letting his fingers tangle in her hair. "'Destroyed' is a very strong word."

"So...you've been happy, right? You've made friends and have colleagues now...he was being overly dramatic to make sure that I -"

"If you're asking if I've been a celibate Dwebble all this time, the answer is no," he said, lifting his hand as she rolled over on her back and looked at him. "By the same token, if you're asking whether or not I've felt for someone the way I did for you..." He shrugged, lowering his hand again and letting his fingers brush lightly against her colorful cheek. "That's a different story."

"Did?" she asked softly, tilting her head against his fingers.

Laughing softly, he nodded a little at her. "I was hoping you wouldn't know to correct that."

Jessie rolled on her side, cautiously moving closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder. Glancing down, she bit her lip again, lightly running her fingers across his bandaged chest. "He said all these things that have been at the back of my mind all this time...even more ever since I've been with you."

He slid his arm around her waist, hand resting on her bare hip bone. "Why's that?"

"Because everything that I'd ever feared was coming true...I was lost and alone and instead of being thankful that I had people who cared about me, all I could think about was what I burden I was to them and how much happier they would all be if I was just...with James again..."

Augustine shook his head and leaned down, kissing her lightly on the forehead and letting his lips linger for a bit before quietly replying, "I know I wouldn't be happier." He smiled slightly, taking her injured hand and lifting it to his lips, brushing his lips against her fingers.

She let her eyes fall shut, a shiver running up her spine at the sensation of his lips against her skin. Murmuring his name softly, heart racing, she pressed herself against him, longing for more contact and new sweet nothings to be said, catching in her brain and reminding her that there was at least one person that didn't think the world would be better off without her.

He swallowed hard, lowering her hand back to his chest and holding it there while his other grabbed the edge of covers and tugged them up and over her shivering body. "You need to get some rest." He was oddly thankful for his injuries, the pain that most small movement caused in his chest an effective deterrent against how badly he wanted her. If he hadn't been hurt, he couldn't say that he would've been such a gentleman.

His heart beating against the bandages and her hand that laid on top of them, Jessie nodded, knowing that it was for the best that they sleep the whole day off; but it still made her happier than she thought it should have to know she made his heart flutter just as much as he did hers.


	6. Chapter 6

She woke up to the strong smell of flowers - something that made much more sense as her grogginess disappeared and she realized she was in the middle of a field. Flowers of every color, shape, and size ran across the huge expanse of land, the sun setting in the sky above and giving everything it shined on an orange-purple glow.

Looking down at herself, she noticed her hand and finger were no longer injured. That fact perturbed her more than any other, even when she saw that she was wearing one of her nightgowns - white as snow with lace at the hem and sleeveless shoulders. Confused as she was, there was something familiar and calming about the place.

Slowly she stood, wiggling her toes in the tiny daisies and poppies that laid underneath her feet. She ran a hand back through her hair only to find it tied in a long, loose braid with flyaway hairs blowing in the sudden light breeze. Wearing what she was, she should have gotten a chill but instead a flood of warmth rushed through her body, so intense that it made her audibly gasp.

The soft crunching of footsteps on flowers suddenly hit her ears, coming closer and closer. She scanned the area but saw nothing other than flowers for as far as her eyes could see. Turning around in place, she nearly choked on the perfumed air at the sight.

Not questioning it for a moment, she ran to him, her body almost bursting as she found herself able to wrap her arms around his neck and hug him. His arms slid around her waist and he lifted her off the ground, spinning and laughing while she buried her face against his neck. Nothing had ever felt more real. It smelled like him and laughed like him, he even spun her around the way he always had.

It was all so unbearable and beyond what she could handle that she started crying against his skin, her body trembling as her nails dug into his crisp white shirt. He set her down on the ground again and held her, letting her cry and murmuring in a soothing tone as if he were really there.

After a few minutes he pulled back, placing his hands on her cheeks and smiling at her. Even his smile still gave her butterflies and prompted her own, laughing slightly as he brushed away her tears with his thumbs. Before she could open her mouth, his lips were against hers. So much was put behind that one kiss despite the tenderness of it that once again it made her gasp at the intensity.

Sliding her hands down his chest, she clutched his shirt, saying against his lips, "I wish this were real."

He smiled again, kissing her softly once more before pulling away again and looking into her hopeful but sad blue eyes. "It is."

She shook her head slightly and looked down at their bare feet, mostly covered by flowers. "It feels like it is...but it's not." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, her voice shaking when she stated, "You're dead."

"Well...that doesn't mean that this isn't real."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, tears threatening to spill again. "What are you talking about?"

He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close to his body, letting her rest her head against his chest. "This is what you were thinking about when you were holding that gun, right?"

She gripped the back of his shirt, starting quietly, "How did you -"

Running his fingers through her hair lovingly, he rested his chin on top of her head. "If you went through with it, this isn't what it would be like. We still wouldn't get our happy ending."

Her heart stopped for a moment and it was in that brief time that she realized she couldn't hear his beating even though her ear was right up against it. She squeezed her eyes shut again, two tears streaming down her cheeks. "How do we get it, then?"

Kissing the top of her head, he replied, "You live your life. Be happy. Fall in love again. Stop blaming yourself."

She shook her head quickly, nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. "I can't...I can't without you."

"Sure you can." He slowly pulled back from her and met her teary eyes, smiling again. "You've always been the strong one, remember?"

Shaking her head again, fervently this time, she argued, "There's no reason to be strong anymore."

"What about Meowth? And Mondo?"

"They...they have each other and they're better off."

Smile broadening a little, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers, the glint of familiar mischief she caught in his eyes making her heart ache like it never had before. "What about Professor Sycamore?"

She blinked at him and jerked her head back, staring in confused silence.

He grinned more and pulled her to him again, foreheads resting against each others. "It's okay, you know. I promise."

"What's okay?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"You know...you're just being stubborn right now, that's all." Kissing her quickly on the lips, he said, "Some things never change."

"James..." she managed to get out before crying again, her vision becoming blurry as the onslaught of tears welled up in her eyes.

Placing a hand on her cheek, he tilted his head and continued to smile. "It doesn't mean that you love me any less or that you're forgetting about me. I know you'll never do that. We're still soul mates but...just long distance ones."

"How can you -"

He kissed her again, more passionately this time, catching her as she let her body fall limp against his. "It's okay," he said against her lips. "Stop being stubborn and be happy. For me."

"No," she sobbed, looking into his warm, caring eyes. "I _need_ you! I love you!"

He grinned again, taking her hands in his and squeezing them gently. "I love you, too." His grin began to fade and he looked down, forcing himself to drop her hands from his. "I have to go. I just needed you to know -"

"What?" she barely squeaked out, looking at him in disbelief. "No...no, you can't go. You're here - you're right here! It's you...how can you just _leave_ again?!"

Looking up at her through periwinkle strands of hair, he said, "I don't have much of a choice."

Defiant, she stood up straight and sniffled, clenching her fists. "Then I want to stay, too."

He shook his head, taking one of her fists and using his fingers to open it, entwining with hers. "You have to go back, Jess. Please...please remember what I said. When you finally get it, you'll be so happy...and then I'll be happy, too."

"Just tell me what you want me to do!"

He smiled again and kissed her cheek softly, nuzzling her lovingly. "Always be prepared for trouble."

Just as quickly as he'd appeared, he was gone again, leaving her alone and crumbling to her knees in the middle of the field of flowers. Repeatedly she screamed for him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

The next time she opened her eyes, she saw through thick tears a concerned Professor Sycamore looking down at her, one hand on her cheek and the other on top of her head, brushing through her hair.

Abruptly, she shot up and looked around, breathing heavily and still quietly choking back her sobs. The realization that she was back in Camphrier Town and James wasn't there hit her the same way the warmth of wherever she had just been had done. Clutching her chest and breathing heavier, certain that she was feeling her heart actually breaking, she shook her head and mumbled to herself, "No...no, no...I can't be here...I can't be back here..."

"Jessie..." Augustine said worriedly, sliding his arms around her - pain in his own chest be damned. "It's okay. It was just a bad dream."

She kept shaking her head, trying to get out of his arms. "It wasn't a bad dream! It was..." she trailed off into more tears, letting her body give in and slump against him. "It was James."

He swallowed hard and shut his eyes, holding her tightly and not letting go, no matter what she wanted right then. "I'm so sorry, Jessie."

"I...I felt him. I could feel him. I was touching him and kissing him and I could smell him and taste him." Still shaking her head, trying to will herself back to the utopia she had fallen from, she said in a hoarse whisper, "It was him. I know it was him."

"It probably was," he said softly, starting to smile slightly. "I wouldn't think he would let you get away with what you almost tried today without a talking to."

Shaking, she slowly pulled back from him and stared down at the bed. "He wants me to be happy."

"That sounds about right," Augustine replied, pulling some of the hair that stuck to her tear-stained cheeks back behind her ear. "That's why he came to get me."

"What are you talking about? I thought you said you ran into each other -"

Smiling a little more and glancing down at the bed himself, he interrupted, "I know what I said. It was only so you wouldn't be even more upset with him. And..." He sighed softly, shaking his head, "and so I looked a little less foolish, myself."

"You _would_ go and do that..." she mumbled, turning her head away from him.

"He wanted you to be happy and be with the right person - even if it meant that it wasn't him."

"But it _was_ him."

He nodded, kissing the side of her head and murmuring into her hair, "Yeah. I know."

Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she sniffled. "I can't go back to Viridian City. I can't go back to Team Rocket. That...it was _us_. If I went back, I would only be wrapping myself in ghosts and making myself even more miserable."

"No one said you had to go back. Ever."

She let out a small laugh, slowly laying back down and pulling the sheets up to her chin. "Where am I supposed to go?"

Professor Sycamore laid down as well, licking his lips and glancing down at the foot of the bed to avoid her gaze. "Stay with me."

Darting her eyes to look at him, she slowly shook her head. "No...I - I can't. I've already been so much of a -"

"If you call yourself a burden one more time, I'll start making you put a penny in a jar every time you do," he said, glancing up at her with a small smile.

She smiled back slightly, biting her lip. "Joke's on you - I'm poor as dirt."

He shrugged a little, fighting back a wince but still making a face at the pain. "Then I guess you shouldn't go calling yourself a burden anymore."

Smiling more, biting her now-quivering lip harder, she met his eyes with her own. "Could I really stay? Just for a little while?"

Looking back into her eyes, he nodded, pained face replaced with a smile. "As long as you can stand me."

She took a deep, shaky breath and scooted close to him, curling up against his body and placing her sore hand against his chest once again. Closing her eyes, she couldn't help but smile more at the beating of his heart she felt against her hand and in her ears.

She still had no idea what James had meant by everything being okay and telling her to stop being stubborn; maybe it didn't mean anything at all but was just James being James. Opening one eye, she glanced up at the ceiling, thinking to herself, "Still trying to be my hero...now who's the stubborn one?"

 

* * *

 

Resting her chin and arms on the back of the sofa, Jessie grinned as Meowth rubbed a tiny cloth bag all over his face, purrs that could give a construction site a run for its money emanating from his mouth. She snickered, watching him roll around on the floor and paw at the thing, teasing him, "Hey, drunkie...I should probably take that thing away from you now..."

He stopped mid-face rub and narrowed his eyes at her, his pupils dilated beyond the sliver they usually were. Letting out a hiss and keeping his glare on her for a few more seconds, he returned to happily playing with the bag.

Emerging from the elevator, Professor Sycamore stared down at his hand, fingering whatever he held in it. He looked up and saw Jessie actually laughing and Meowth reverting back to his more primal urges.

He joined her on the couch, eyebrows raised at the Pokemon that was now hugging the object of its affection to his body. "Well, it's good to know that my Poke-nip gets his seal of approval."

"You ask for it, you know," Jessie said, smiling at him coyly. "I drink and now you've got Meowth on drugs." Resting back against the couch, she held her hands up in innocence. "Don't look at me when he's pawning your TV for his latest fix."

"If I always have some on hand, that won't be a problem, will it?" he replied with a smile before lowering his gaze and letting out a heavy sigh.

Jessie frowned and tilted her head to the side. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand back through his hair anxiously. "I've been asked to go with some workers to what's left of the Team Flare hideout in Geosenge."

She shifted against the couch at the mention of both Team Flare and the city she had made a specific point to stay as far away from as possible. "Why?"

"The police have finally finished their investigation and they'd like to start cleaning it up. They were actually kind enough to think of me and see if I would want to join them to make sure they didn't get rid of anything important Lysandre may have in regards to mega-evolution."

Nodding slightly, she looked down at her lap, lowering her voice. "That makes sense. If it's there, that means he doesn't have it and there's no one else that should be trusted with that kind of information but you."

"Well..." he started cautiously, rubbing the back of his neck, "there's also the fact that I didn't notice him wearing his ring in Camphrier Town. He may still have it and didn't want to risk losing it but..."

Jessie blinked and urged him on, "But?"

"It... _is_ possible that he's already lost it and it's in the ruins of the hideout." He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and took out the object he was playing with, keeping it hidden in his clasped hand. "If there's a chance that I can get it back, I have to take it. I have to keep him from using mega-evolution as a means to his end."

She smiled a little and reached forward, placing her hand over his. "You know that I'll never be against ruining that freak's plans in any way possible."

Augustine looked up at her through his hair and laughed slightly, shaking his head. "I wasn't expecting you to be. In fact, the real reason I needed to tell you this is because..." Inhaling sharply, he took his hand from under hers and used his other to turn her hand palm up. From his other hand he placed a stone in hers and quickly made her close her hand. "I would never, ever ask you to do this if I didn't think it was important."

Jessie swallowed hard and nodded a little, eyes darting to her hand, his own still holding it closed. "What is it?"

"It's a Mewtwonite Y. The Guru, Gurkinn, gave it to me years ago when I first became a professor and delved deeper into my research. I don't know how he got it and I have no idea if it would actually work on Mewtwo..." He sighed, taking his hand away from hers, "Provided it even exists."

She looked up at him quizzically, almost in disbelief. "What? Of course it exists. I've seen it a bunch of times."

Professor Sycamore jerked his head up to look at her, eyes wide with disbelief of his own. " _What_?! When? How?"

Shrugging as she opened her palm to look at the stone inside, she replied, "Several very long stories but I'll cut to the chase: Team Rocket _made_ Mewtwo."

"Not just Team Rocket," came the slurred voice from the floor, "but da boss himself!" Lower lip suddenly trembling, Meowth sat up and put his head in his paws, wailing, "I miss my clone!"

"Right, because the world needs more than one of you," Jessie retorted.

"Wait, wait..." the professor said, frazzled, waving his hands in the air and shutting his eyes as he tried to understand. "Your organization...your _boss_...created this Pokemon? And there are _clones_?"

Looking back down at the stone, she said, "When you put it like that, I suppose I can understand your reaction."

Professor Sycamore shook his head, reaching for the stone but being blocked by Jessie. "Jessie, I can't give this to you. Not now that I know all this."

She held her hand with the stone in it to her chest, frowning at him. "What? Why not? It's not like we had anything to do with Mewtwo and I have no idea what happened to the thing."

"Every time we saw it, it was...it was..." Burying his face against his Poke-nip bag, Meowth sobbed out, " _a mistake_!"

Jessie turned her frown to Meowth. "I think you've had too much to sniff."

"Jessie, I'm begging you. _Please_." He put both of his hands on her cheeks and looked into her eyes, his own dark ones pleading. "The only reason I even considered giving this to you was because I wasn't entirely certain that Mewtwo wasn't simply a myth. Now that I know it's real and there's an equally real possibility that stone may work on it, I can't put you in that kind of danger. I _won't_."

Standing up, she tucked the stone away in her front pocket and crossed her arms. "I can handle it."

Professor Sycamore stood as well, the look in his eyes changing from concern and worry to annoyance. "This isn't a game, Jessie! Being that you've seen Mewtwo in the flesh, I take it that you can confirm how terrifying and strong it is." Getting a nod in response, he continued, "These stones take Pokemon that we once thought were at their maximum power and push it even further. The damage that could be done with that stone is..." he trailed off and shook his head.

"One problem: they would have to find it first and from what I remember, it's not really in to that," she snapped.

"Hey!"

Jessie and the professor turned and watched as a clumsy Meowth made three attempts to jump onto the back of the couch before giving up and laying back down on the floor.

"Dis could be da nip talkin' but...if some bad dude is out dere lookin' for dis ting, wouldn't Jess be da last place dey'd check? 'Cause of all dose reasons you said." He waved his paw in the air, limply. "Ya know, da danger and da love and all dat business."

Clenching her teeth, she turned her head away from both Meowth and Professor Sycamore, her cheeks tinting with pink. Augustine looked down, averting his gaze from her as well, unmanaged hair in his eyes. There was an all-encompassing silence that was only broken when Meowth began to snore loudly behind the couch.

"He's not wrong," Professor Sycamore said quietly. "They would assume that I would never put you in harm's way and never suspect that you had it the entire time." He looked up at her slightly, sticking his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. "As if this whole situation wasn't dangerous enough."

Glancing at him, she met his eyes briefly before looking away once again, out the large window to the bustling city of Lumiose below. "I can handle it. You can trust me."

He let out a long, heaving sigh, rubbing a hand across his face. "It's not that I don't trust you -"

Jessie blinked at the thought that went through her mind and quickly turned to look at him, startling the young professor. "I'll come with you."

"What?"

"To the hideout. I'll go with you. That way you can babysit me all you like."

"It's not _babysitting_ -"

"I need to go there at some point anyway," she blurted out, pursing her lips together after.

Augustine stepped closer to her, looking at her sympathetically. "Jessie..."

"Dere's dis cabin outside da town a ways," Meowth groaned, seemingly a voice without a body. "Team Rocket surveillance place. Mondo said it's been abandoned since..." he trailed off.

Jessie forced a small smile, gesturing with her head behind the couch. "See? It'll be fine."

He ran both of his hands back through his hair and laughed softly, nervously. "You're not going to take 'no' for an answer, are you?"

She shrugged and sat back down on the couch, peering down at Meowth. "You coming, too?"

A grin slowly spread across the Pokemon's face as he lifted his paw and gave a paws up in response. "Ya ain't gettin' rid of me!"

Reaching down, she poked him in his belly, causing him to whine out a meow and squirm. "So I've noticed."

Professor Sycamore joined Jessie, flopping down on the couch and resting his head back against it. "The entire point was to _avoid_ any possible contact with Lysandre at all -"

"That worked out so well for you before," she said flatly.

Unable to argue that point, he simply nodded a little, eyes travelling to the small bulge in her front pocket. "I hate every part of this, you know."

Placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing, Jessie leaned forward and said, "Welcome to the life of the illustrious Team Rocket."


End file.
